


Je T'aime

by castiels_diary



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Depression, Developing Relationship, Drug Addiction, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Human AU, M/M, Smoking, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, daft slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:19:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiels_diary/pseuds/castiels_diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas Bangalter makes an attempt to end his own life, and from this a question of his feelings for Guy-Manuel arises. As their relationship builds, things get worse. </p><p>Lots of angst.<br/>Lots of fluff.<br/>And some sex.</p><p>There'll be multiple chapters, soon to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. N'aubliez Pas Moi-Don't Forget Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is a heavy slash fic, lots of angst. I'll try to include translations for any french phrases I use.  
> Additional Trigger Warnings: Suicide Attempts, Depression, Drugs(Ecstasy), Near Death Experiences.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Feedback is appreciated!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Continuer toujours - keep going
> 
> Merci - thank you
> 
> N'aubliez pas moi - dont forget me

The note read:

 

_Guy-Manuel,_

_I guess you'll be the one to find me. I'm sorry. Just promise you won't be sad? This is what I want. It's not your fault. It's better this way._

_You are my best friend, Guillaume._

_So, promise you'll keep going- continuer toujours._

_I didn't think it'd come to this, but I can't stay any longer._

_Merci. N'aubliez pas moi._

 

Sighing heavily, Thomas placed the note on the bathroom counter. He slid down the side of the porcelain tub and traced the grooves in the white tile floor, his fingers where shaking. Another heavy sigh escaped his lips. Slowly, he turned the cap of the orange pill bottle, emptying it into his palm. Thomas placed two blue capsules on his tongue. He ran a trembling hand through his knotted, curly blonde hair and took a sip of water, swallowing the pills.

Then he did it again. 

And again.

 

And again.

And again.

 

 

The plastic pill bottle fell to the floor, followed by Thomas's torso, then head.. Dazed, his eyes stared into the blue-white fluorescent. Though he was beginning to lose feeling in his limbs and chest , out of the numbness, he felt relief. Thomas's breathing became shallow and spaced. Eyes were starting to shut. His heart was gradually giving out, the pills were kicking in, and taking over. 

He blinked.

"Thomas?"

Blinked again. Was Guy really there? He sounded so far away.

"Thomas?" the voice was louder, clearer.

Thomas could've sworn the doorknob turned.

"Tho-Wha-Oh my God."

His eyes refused to stay open. The last thing he heard was:

"Christ-Shit..Thomas, No." And the muffled words turned into sobs of distress.  


	2. The Hostpital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> vous êtes éveillé - you're awake
> 
> non- no/nope
> 
> Guillaume - French equivalent of William; Guy-Man's full name. (Guillaume-Emmanuel)

_Beep._

 

_Beep._

 

Thomas woke up to the sound of a heart monitor.

 

_Beep._

 

His eyes flickered open, meeting the harsh, sterile white of his surroundings. A hospital. That meant he had failed. It meant he was alive and he would have to keep suffering because he couldn't even swallow enough pills to make it stop. Thomas had failed, like he did with everything else. He felt like crying but no tears formed. He blinked, trying to adjust to the bright room. He was alive. If Thomas had the energy, he would be so, so impossibly angry. Things couldn't get any worse now. Thomas knew he would have to answer questions and lie, and lie and lie. Next time, he decided, he would take something more lethal. 

Suppressing a groan of exhaustion, Thomas turned his head to the left, startled to find another being in a chair next to the rather uncomfortable hospital bed. Guy-Man had drifted off beside him, his face leaning against his hand. Even like this, Guy was obviously a wreck. His nose was red, cheeks were tear stained. His breathing was so quiet Thomas hadn't even detected it in the otherwise silent room. On the opposite wall was a clock, which read 9:12 am. Guiltily, Thomas realized that his friend had stayed here overnight with him.

Then, the guilt grew and grew. He had put Guy-Manuel through this. His own selfishness was causing his best friend pain.

Somehow, Thomas didn't want to die any less. The past three years had been so, so empty. While his affection for Guy-Man increased, his self-worth decreased. How stupid was he? Falling for your best friend of 8 years? Thomas didn't deserve Guy-Man in a million years, at least he thought so. Everyday, even though he was with Guy-Man, he knew the older boy would never love him. How could he? Thomas felt vile. 

Yet, Guy had stuck with him. He was here. And Thomas had never been more in love with him.

Next to him, Guy-Manuel began to stir. He brushed back his brown hair and locked eyes with Thomas. " _Vous êtes éveillé,_ " He murmured blankly. Thomas nodded slowly. "Mm." 

"How are you feeling?" Guy asked quietly, sadly.

"Tired."

Guy-Man nodded, unsurprised.

"I'm in love with you, Guillaume." Thomas blurted indifferently. He looked up at Guy-Man with weak eyes. The older boy held his gaze on Thomas, continuing to breath steadily. Guy-Man said nothing. 

Finally, he spoke up and replied, "You don't mean that. You're all doped up on Novocain," He said flatly. His body ached for it to be true. But it wasn't. " _Non,"_ Thomas insisted. He then reached down on the side of the bed, retrieving the IV he had pulled out, leaving it to drip onto the tile floor. He looked back to Guy-Manuel, awaiting a response. Guy raised his eyebrows and stood up. "We'll talk later." He sighed as he bent down to kiss Thomas on both cheeks. "Sleep now." 

Guy-Manuel shut the door quietly. 

 

+++

 

"Guy-Manuel!"

He turned around and searched the busy hospital hallway to see who had called for him. Dr. Winter was walking quickly in his direction, dodging wheelchairs and stretchers in the process. "How are you?" He asked, a little too cheerily for Guy's taste. "Fine. Thomas is too." He replied, trying not to glare too harshly at the doctor. 

"Ah-yes. Well, I would like to encourage you to urge Mr. Bangalter to seek professional help to further treat his condition." Dr. Winter stated. 

"His 'condition'" Guy-Man tilted his head.

"We have diagnosed Mr. Bangalter with Major Depressive Disorder." He confirmed. 

Thomas was..Depressed? He hadn't seemed depressed..Maybe that's why this whole thing was so unexpected, so surreal. "We suggest he seek therapy from a psychologist and/ or a psychiatrist to prescribe medication." The doctor continued. "Of course, he is over the age of 18, so we can't force him to, but as his friend I hope you will convince him."

Guy nodded in fake agreement. He had known since they were 13. Eight years was more than enough time to know that he wouldn't accept help from anyone. Thomas was too stubborn, too proud.

"Other than that, we have no reason to keep him here. Thomas will be discharged this afternoon. Make sure he stays hydrated." Dr. Winter said with a smile. He then shook Guy-Man's hand and returned to his job.

Guy found a side exit that led to a small concrete patio. Relieved to be outside, he tore open a new pack of cigarettes. A little too soon, he was on his second smoke. He knew he should go check on Thomas, but he couldn't stop think about what his friend had said. In love with him? Surely he was still delirious. On his own part, Guy-Manuel was completely sure of how he felt about Thomas. He took another slow drag. 

It'd been nearly a year since he fell for Thomas. Of course, they'd been best friends long before that. But there was one morning in September that Guy woke up early and out of smokes. When he came back from the convenience store, Thomas was asleep on the couch, and Guy-Man's heart stopped. He'd never seen his friend in a more innocent perspective. Thomas's lanky body was curled up, sinking slightly into the cushions. His jaw slacked, just a little, but that was nothing new. One hand was curled around his wrist, his head in his other palm. Thomas breathed evenly and slowly. The morning sunlight that peeked through the window cast a sepia tone across his pale skin and light hair. He was still, he was calm.

And it was then that Guy-Manuel realized what he felt for Thomas was no where near platonic. 

But he kept that part to himself.

Guy put out his cigarette and re entered the freezing Hospital. He mindlessly made his way down the corridor and almost passed Thomas's room. Guy-Man peered in through the rectangular window in the door. Thomas had his hands on his lap, kneading his fingers together. When he saw Guy-Man in the doorway, he nodded, permitting him to come in.

"We're going home."

 

 


	3. A hint of a Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> pour l'amour de Dieu - for God's sake
> 
> cela n'a aucun sens - this makes no sense
> 
> Je t'aime- i love you

The ride home was silent. They didn't say anything as they unlocked the apartment door and sat down next to each other on the sofa. Guy-Manuel hugged a pillow, Thomas hung his head. The air was tense and uncomfortable. It was nice to be back in their familiar apartment, which smelled of ivy and tobacco, but it wasn't the same. _And why should it be?,_ Thomas thought, If it was ever going to be the same again, it would take a while. For both of them. The two of them were close enough that they could sit together in silence, which they did often, due to Guy-Man's quiet nature. But this was not the same silence. This was a hurt and distraught silence.

To the left of him, Thomas heard Guy-Man's breath hitch. The blonde boy looked over, only to see his best friend crying quietly.

As they met eyes, Guy-Manuel whispered, "I thought you were dead."

In response, Thomas turned his head, hiding his shame; his cheeks felt hot.

" _Pour l'amour de Dieu_ , Look at me!" Guy-Man hissed. "I thought I lost you, I thought-"

"What if I lost you?" He asked through gritted teeth and hot tears. Guy's knuckles where white where he had his fingers curled tightly into a fist around the pillow in his lap. He looked at Thomas, desperate for a response. Minutes passed and he never got one. In the daunting silence, Guy repeatedly ran his hands through his long, slightly greasy hair and stared blankly at the carpet. How much pain was Thomas in? To do something like this? It's bad. It's really, really bad. Of course it is. No one that deals with everyday 'unhappiness' tries to end their life, Guy thought distractedly. 

Thomas felt sick with guilt. A couple of his own tears fell on to the back of his hand. "I-I want..to die." He whispered shakily. He couldn't help it. He was so sick of everything, all the time. Wake up, survive, sleep, repeat. What was the point?

"No," Guy-Man said. "No, no, no, no.." He repeated, the words eventually getting lost in his throat as he sobbed harder. Guy brought his knee's to his chest, burying his face, and put his hands over his ears. _No, no, no, no, no, no.._

Thomas sighed. He couldn't think of the words to say that would fix this.

 

At least ten minutes must've gone by, and they hadn't even looked at each other. Guy-man had calmed down, but remained curled up. Thomas simply sat, rubbing his forehead with his palm. Meanwhile, he also scripted out exactly what he wanted to say to Guy. He decided he would grab a pack of cigarettes, offer them to Guy and ask if they could just talk about it. 'I'm sorry, this wasn't your fault, I'm going to be okay, this will pass, I don't know what I was thinking'. Guillaume would nod and take another drag, and it would be okay. Simple.

Thomas stood up and went to the counter where he was almost certain Guy and left his pack. He walked back to the sofa and sat down closer to the other boy. Guy-Man looked up hesitantly behind his bangs, brushed them aside and took the cigarette Thomas was offering him. As he brought it to his lips, Thomas held the flame of the lighter under the tip. "We need to talk," Guy-Man said, lips curling around the cigarette. In unison, they stood, knowing exactly of the others intentions. He followed Thomas to the fire escape and up the rusting stairs that led to the rooftop of their apartment building It wasn't quite dusk yet, but the late afternoon air was cooler than it was before.

The two of them stood leaning on the cement rail of the rooftop, looking down at the busy Parisian streets. It was funny how nothing had changed in the outside world. Their arms brushed slightly as they rested on the cement, but it was a different kind of contact. It was more urgent, more serious.

"Just tell me why," Guy-Manuel said suddenly, glancing over briefly at his friend. "I d-don't know, I dunno..." Thomas replied, frowning slightly. He didn't know exactly why he despised living so much. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. "Thomas.." Guy said, nudging him slightly, willing him to speak honestly.

"I'm just sick of everything," The blonde boy replied, peering uninterestedly over the edge of the roof. "I'm going to fix that." Guy-Manuel said softly, but somehow sounded confident in his word.

"Are you now?"

"Oui."

And they went back to being silent. 

Guy's smoke was nearly burned out, and he eventually couldn't keep himself quiet, for once in his life.

"Thomas, do you remember what you told me in the hospital?" He asked hesitantly, turning to Thomas.

"Oui, Of course." He replied, indifferent to the subject at hand. Guy frowned in confusion. "Cela n'a aucun sens," he said, "I don't understand." But he understood perfectly. 

"I'm in love with you and you either feel the same or you don't. It's simple." Thomas said, with a hint of a smile. He turned and stood to face Guy, who was looking up at him with the same intense eyes he had marveled at for years.  


Guy-Man slowly brought his cigarette-less hand up to Thomas's face, placed his thumb on the taller boy's lips. He shamelessly took to his toes to even out the height difference between them. "Je T'aime," He whispered against Thomas's lips before closing the gap, kissing him sweetly. 

"Je T'aime."  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
